When we think of the Underworld, we tend to think of death - of pomegranate stained hands and lost hopes and dreams. But what if there was something deeper? Something rooted in truth and reclamation? Something that speaks of fingertips not stained pomegranate red, but the ashes of what has been left behind in order to find and build and create something new? This is the Creative Underworld — a land of alchemic awareness that to know our words and stories and medicine we are meant to usher out into the world means to dwell in the liminal spaces. The cave of remembrance.